


Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You

by queentangerine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x09 coda, Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, M/M, Post-Episode: s09e09 Holy Terror, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queentangerine/pseuds/queentangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is an angel once more and is - at least for now - in the bunker with the Winchesters. Sam is rid of Gadreel, Kevin is dead. While Dean knows he should be focused on Sam's forgiveness, in his alcohol induced state all he can think about is whether or not Cas will stay. </p>
<p>Following 9x09 Holy Terror, canon(ish), according to my interpretation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You

**Author's Note:**

> First fic I've written in years, guys. Bear with me.  
> (Hey, not to be confusing, but I changed the title, used to be Should I Stay or Should I Go.)

It certainly hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped. If it had, well, they wouldn’t be sitting here in this palpable silence, avoiding eye contact, and drinking too much, all while pretending everything was just fine. Dean knew that he should blame himself and his stupid mistakes, but he instead chose to blame their lack of a distraction. They had received nothing but complete radio silence from the feuding angels, and had found only one solitary, lackluster case. He couldn’t help but feel like this was the calm before the storm, and here they were wasting it, all because they had too much time to think… and dwell.  
  
Sam had not forgiven Dean for the Gadreel/Ezekiel incident, even though he told him he had, and Dean didn’t blame him. All of their conversations since the initial blowout felt forced and altogether too formal. Dean’s apologies did little good and before long he stopped altogether, not wanting to push it too far and make it worse. They both chose to let it lie, not knowing what else to do.  
  
Cas, stolen grace and all, of course swooped in last minute to save Sam. He was much too late to do anything about Kevin, however. They burned the body and raised their never empty glasses to their fallen friend. It seemed that far too often they had to bury their friends, and Dean was sick of it.  
  
More than anything, Dean had though that having Cas in the bunker would make it all better. He had missed his friend, and – terrible though it may sound – he could’ve acted as a bit of buffer between Sam and him until they patched things up. But Cas wasn’t his usual self. Apparently, having any old grace was _not_ the same as having his own. It really seemed to wear him out, the more he used his power. The only reason he was even in the bunker right now was to rest and regain his strength. Initially he had been in and out, looking for Metatron, looking for Malachi, but they were pretty deep underground. Each time Cas returned worse for wear, until he finally let Dean talk him into staying for a while. The silence Dean received from Sam he understood, but the cold shoulder he was getting from Cas he wasn’t sure he deserved – at least not anymore. Maybe he had kicked him out, but he invited him back in. But together in the bunker, Cas made sure to put quite a bit of distance between them, though he acted friendly enough.  
  
This particular evening had been off to a good start. Cas was around for the second night in a row, and the three of them sat down together for a beer. But they soon exhausted all the safe topics of conversation, leaving them in silence. After a while Sam excused himself and went back to reading his books, scouring for useful information, though he didn’t think it likely he’d find anything.  
  
Dean and Cas, left alone at the table, were able to find a few more topics to discuss, half-heartedly, before the silence returned. One beer turned into two, which turned into three, and Dean stopped counting. But he could feel the alcohol taking it toll, a bit of a headache, heavy eyelids. He wondered how Cas was holding up, if his weakened grace managed to keep him sober. He thought maybe he would ask, break the silence, but then Sam walked back in.  
  
“Hey,” he said. “I’m just going to… uh, going to bed.” He eyed the growing pile of empty bottles on the table, raised an eyebrow. “Any of those left?”  
  
Dean grabbed an unopened bottle form the case on the chair next to him and passed off to Sam.  
  
“Thanks,” he said, grabbing it. After a bit of a pause, he sort of waved, then turned, heading off to his room.  
  
“’Night, Sammy,” Dean called after him, but Sam didn’t respond.  
  
Cas didn’t acknowledge the exchange. In fact, Dean didn’t even think he heard them or saw Sam at all. He was staring quizzically into the corner of the room, where Dean had put up a small, makeshift Christmas tree. Sam had always loved Christmas, and he mistakenly thought celebrating would put him in a good mood. Cas of course did not understand Christmas from the brothers' human perspective – all trees and decorations and presents.  
  
Dean shut the book he’d been absentmindedly flipping through, and took another sip of his beer, though he really didn’t need any more.  
  
“Hey, Cas?”  
  
At first it didn’t seem like he’d heard him, but after a moment his shifted his gaze to meet Dean’s.  
  
“Yes, Dean?”  
  
“Do you think…” He trailed off, realizing this could begin a nearly infinite number of questions. _Do you think Sam will forgive me? Do you think Kevin would? Do you think you will? Do you think I made the right choice or a huge mistake?_ Forget being haunted by a ghost, this decision will haunt him for years to come. But most of all he wanted to ask –  
  
“Do you think you’ll stay this time?”  
  
Dean had no doubt, that when Cas was human, he would have stayed, if it were not for Dean telling him to leave. Even though Cas now knew the motivation behind the eviction, he still seemed hurt that Dean sent him away, hadn’t trusted him or confided in him. And now, with is grace back – or _a_ grace back, why would he keep himself cooped up in the bunker, while a worldwide war was being fought? Wasn’t his place out there on the battlefield? If the past were any indication, Cas certainly would think it was.  
  
Cas was looking at him, deep in thought, with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know.”  
  
Dean shook his head. “Right,” he let out a short, bitter laugh. “More important places to be, I get it.” He was fidgeting in his seat, his thumb tracing the label on his beer bottle.  
  
“There’s a war out there, Dean, and the reason it’s _here_ is –“  
  
“Look Cas, you don’t have to explain yourself.” He could feel his speech starting to slur.  
  
For once Cas listened to him, and said nothing. Dean shifted in his seat again, uncomfortable with the silence, and wouldn’t meet Cas’ eyes. “I just thought… well I only told you to leave ‘cause...”  
  
Cas still said nothing. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table, wringing his hands together. Dean looked up when he heard the chair creak. Cas was looking right at him.  
  
“Dean, you know I want to stay here, with you, but I can’t. Without my grace, when I was human,” he paused. “It was different. But now, I have strength again, and I am needed in this war.”  
  
“And you don’t think that we need you?” _That I need you?_ But Dean left it unsaid.  
  
“I would be of more use out there, righting my wrongs. This war, the fall, it’s my fault.”  
  
“It’s _not_ your fault, Cas, and it’s not up to you to save everyone, it never was.”  
  
“Isn’t it?” Cas looked so lost, a world of confusion behind his eyes and even more guilt. Dean saw all of it as he looked at him. He’d felt that way himself once, and he understood Cas completely. But he just wanted Cas to stay.  
  
“You don’t have to do it alone,” he said quietly.  
  
But Cas just shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, Dean. I do. But there isn’t much you can do. This is bigger than you. You’re human. I didn’t fully understand what that meant until I had to experience it. But I’m an angel again, and what I have to do now… you could not… you are not capable…”  
  
Dean felt as if he’d been stabbed. Cas’ lack of faith in him stung much more than he would have thought. He could feel his anger bubbling to the surface.  
  
“So all I’ve done for you before now, what was that, then?”  
  
It was then, at Dean’s raised voice that Cas realized what he’d said.  
  
“Dean, I didn’t mean –”  
  
But Dean had heard enough. He stood up, a little too quickly, and swayed, almost losing his balance. _Damn alcohol_ , why’d he have to drink so much? He took a step and almost fell for real, but Cas was already at his side and grabbed his arm to steady him. But Dean shook him off and tried to keep walking.  
  
“I’m fine, Cas.” Although he clearly wasn’t, stumbling along in the direction of his room. Cas was standing as still as a statue beside the table.  
  
“If you have to leave then just go.” Dean muttered, pausing to look back at Cas.  
  
Cas was watching him curiously, head tilted as if he didn’t understand. Then he nodded curtly. “I’ll… return when I can.”  
  
Dean blinked and Cas was gone. He didn’t actually think the bastard would leave immediately like that but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.  
  
He decided his room and his bed were much too far. His head was spinning, his eyes didn’t want to stay open, and his lack of coordination wouldn’t allow for that much distance. He made is as far as the couch and threw himself down. Figured it was as good a place as any to sleep tonight.  
  
Maybe he’d wake up and Cas would be back, or he hadn’t really left at all. Maybe Dean was too drunk to tell.  
  
Maybe he was just kidding himself. He could already feel one hell of a hangover coming on, and it was sure to keep him firmly rooted in reality.  
  
Cas was gone.


End file.
